The role of Mor, the dutifully good-hearted, hasn't logged in for an entire day, even after a dozen or so chapters... Ahem, this is merely just the beginning. As the total game time of players increases, this disadvantage will quickly grow exponentially, eventually leading to a vicious cycle.
Okay, the realm of innocence might be different from other games, the extreme uncertainty might lessen the consequences, but it will still have a major negative impact on Motan.
Motan's split personality disorder isn't an active skill, but a passive effect, implying...
"There's no solution." Motan lets out a sigh, shaking his head and mutters: "At least not for now."
At that moment, he wasn't lamenting about the unfair treatment, he was simply hoping to possess the power to help others. Like in a similar encounter, the gap in performances between a novice and a max-level hero is as wide as heaven and earth.
Be the Death Knight, known for bestowing full buffs, reviving both allies and enemies, or the elderly wizard who can group teleport his team away when outmatched, aren't they both more reliable than an SCV that can only perform electric welding?
No matter the worldview, any highly technical task of damage control or salvation requires substantial power as backing.
Motan's ability is probably even weaker than an SCV, at least they have electric welding!
However, despite his bug of multiple characters and the major drawbacks it possesses for Motan, it's not completely without its advantages, like for example...
Clang!!
The sudden forceful opening of the door interrupted his thoughts, in rushed a red-faced burly dwarf, who without saying a word embraced Motan tightly.
"Um! Mag... Magg!!" Motan could only feel the air being squeezed out of his chest. Struggling with a flushed face and a coarse voice, he said: "Go easy! I'm going to…die!"
The man in front of him, a cheerful bearded dwarf warrior, was none other than Magg, the vice-captain of the Dragon Mercenary Corps. Or in other words, Rolling Iron.
"Haha~" Realizing that he was maybe a bit too excited, Magg quickly loosened his grip, while laughing: "The greenies said you woke up but I didn't believe it, I didn't expect it to be true!"
Motan was slightly confused, asking: "Woke up? So that means I was...in a coma before?"
"Yes, you were in a coma for nearly two days." Magg nodded, sat down next to Motan's bed, spreading his hands, "We were all concerned for you, during this period members of the mercenary group have been keeping watch outside your room. It was the nature spirits who told us you were awake, tsk tsk, they wouldn't have set up a magic array in the room for voyeurism. I'll ask, I've long wanted to see Hammer girl take a bath!"
Well, judging from the name, she probably is a dwarf girl with impressive battle skills. In order to maintain his moral integrity, Motan decided not to ponder about Magg's remarks.
"You're overthinking, big-beard."
A sharp voice came from not far away. Motan and Magg turned their heads, only to see the potted plant near the head of the bed began to move. The plant-like creature stretched out its limb, hooked it on the edge of the pot trying to pull itself out. After a while, it managed to get its 'waist' and below out of the soil.
Motan thought this little guy should be the so-called nature spirit, although its image was completely different from 'greenie' as told by Magg. At best it looked like walking chives…
"Please keep your astonishment to yourself, I already have a boyfriend." The chive...no, nature spirit shook its leaves, then in a hazy green light, morphed into a petite woman that looked like a headteacher (what kind of appearance is this, anyway?), snorted at Magg: "I was the first to know he woke up because I've been watching him. That's all. Your chat is up to you."
Then, she walked away with her seductive snake-like waist…
She's so graceful, so elegant.
"Don't question your aesthetics." Magg rolled his eyes, whispering to Motan: "I swear, even among the nature spirits, that one is really ugly…"
The latter blinked without expressing any opinion, just smiling: "As long as everyone's alright, but to be honest, I am confused…"
No doubt about that, saying nothing else, just Magg's line of 'in a coma for nearly two days' filled Motan's mind with questions. Because whether it's a player logging in or offline, it should be a modest flash of white light, snap, and the character appears~ or disappears~
Motan had never heard of such a thing as one's avatar remaining in the game even after logging out...
Although the developers had never explicitly explained the intricacies of logging in and out, merely vaguely stating 'under reasonably appropriate circumstances', the idea of an avatar remaining unconscious in the game for nearly two days after logging out seemed overly fantastical!
Not getting to the bottom of this would surely give Motan chills!
Think about it, one's character in the game could be considered an extension of a player, right? A sort of alter ego, and yet, after logging out, your otherin a world filled with Orcs, Ogres, Lizardmen, Magic, Alchemy – a mystical, chaotic world.
That would surely leave anyone in cold sweats!
"It's all thanks to you!" Morge patted Mo's shoulder. "Otherwise, we would never have made it here without any casualties. The Terrestrial Dragon owes you,"
"Thanks to me?" Motan ran his hand through his hair, confused. "All I did was yell about breaking through, even if I hadn't said it, professionals like you would have made the same choice, right?"
He didn't believe the mercenaries and forest sprites were all idiots, ignoring the glaring flaming path, which was their only way out.
At most, he had just reacted a bit quicker…
"Have you forgotten what happened after?" Morge stared at Motan for a while and mumbled, "Could it be a side effect? After all, no one really knows what you did..."
Motan asked curiously, "What did I do?"
Morge gave him a wry smile and retrieved a small wine pouch from somewhere on his person, took a grand swig, and reminisced, "What did you do? Just as we had barely gathered and prepared to break through, you suddenly screamed. Then all the countless Sand Gnomes and Mud Fish suddenly dropped to the ground…some spat out blood, some gasped for breath, some fainted, but none stood up. A while later, you also fell. We then brought you here."
It took Motan about five seconds to process Morge's words before he shrugged, signaling that his friend hadn't yet made his point clear, "Could you be a little more specific?"
The normally slow Dwarf warrior agreed and then animatedly chatted with him for over half an hour…
In the end, this was what Motan understood:
Following his cry, everyone began to prepare for the break through, during which time he had already been logged out.
However, rather than disappearing in a flash of light as was customary, his avatar in the game became non-responsive. The ambushers who were already restructuring their assault seemed to be planning a second round of fierce attack.
Then suddenly, 'he' bellowed into the sky. A second later, a multitude of Sand Gnomes and Mud Fish around him fell like dominoes — the elusive archers included, who didn't fire even a single arrow. The imminent danger had somehow been peculiarly diffused...
However, he who should have been the benefactor, also fell and fell into unconsciousness.
The mercenary group was completely baffled by this phenomenon. Finally, an ancient forest sprite who looked like he had been alive for quite some time, came forward. He squinted at Motan for a while before deriving a vague conclusion — that this kid probably activated some forbidden power, paying a heavy price to instantly finish off a large group of enemies.
Then he passed out, presumably due to exhaustion, depletion, some price, backlash, or some other reason only known to the gods.
…
All this was stretched out into a half an hour discussion by Morge!
Motan, who was initially confused, found himself even more baffled after the conversation...
Chapter Seventeen: End